


Still and Quiet

by Asidian



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Authority, Edging, M/M, Orders, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Quiet Sex, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 11:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asidian/pseuds/Asidian
Summary: The order's not a hard one: stay still, and stay quiet. It's an order he's had before, more times than he can count.This time, he even has an end goal: two hundred pages.It seems doable. Two hundred pages isn't that long, right? Prompto's just got to hang in there until Gladio finishes his book.





	Still and Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Day one of [FFXV Kink Week](https://ffxv-kink-week.tumblr.com/): Authority Kink.
> 
> Based on [this gorgeous art](http://kacir18.tumblr.com/post/171498319323/patreon-ko-fi) by Kaciart. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! :)

The order's not a hard one: stay still, and stay quiet. It's an order he's had before, more times than he can count.

This time, he even has an end goal: two hundred pages. 

It seems doable. Two hundred pages isn't that long, right? Prompto's just got to hang in there until Gladio finishes his book. 

He's done harder things before, on those days when Gladio's eyes go dark and stern, and his voice turns deep and commanding. The combination always lights a fire under Prompto's skin, low in his stomach, and makes him scramble to do what he's told.

He can take this particular order, no problem. This one's easy mode.

He tells himself that when Gladio has him strip his pants off, and his underwear, too. He tells himself that when Gladio works him slowly open with thick fingers and so much lube he's dripping with it. He tells himself that when Gladio gets the vibrator out of his bag and eases it inside of him, curved and ridged in delicious places but entirely too slender to give him what he wants.

Then Gladio settles back against the pillows, and he pats the bed beside him. "Remember, not a sound. Not a _twitch_. You can tell me yes, sir, but that's the last thing out of your mouth."

"Yes, sir," says Prompto. His mouth is dry as he scoots up into position – debates where to put himself for a second or two before he settles on his back.

He gets pinch on the thigh for the effort, a brief, sharp burst of sensation that shoots straight to his cock. "On your stomach, sunshine. You think I'm making this easy for you?"

So Prompto rolls over onto his front. His cock's already hard – is aching, thanks to Gladio's careful preparation. He wants those big hands to swallow him up and stroke him off, all close heat and the too-intense friction of callouses, but he knows damn well that that's a long way in the future, if it comes at all.

Instead, his erection's pressed up against the blankets with own weight, sandwiched between his body and the mattress. He's barely settled before the pressure's driving him a little crazy. It's going to be hell, keeping still like this.

Two hundred pages is nothing, though, right? And anyway, Gladio reads fast.

He's totally got this.

Prompto keeps thinking that, right up until Gladio settles back in with his book. Then a sturdy hand casually reaches over to flip the vibrator on – the lowest setting, just enough to tease – and Prompto, just barely, resists the urge to rock into the bed.

It's hard work, staying still. 

Time ticks past, but Prompto can't see the clock, so he has no idea how much. There's nothing in his range of sight except the blankets, and the shape of Gladio's thigh there beneath them. The vibrator is pure torture – just enough to keep him erect and aware, but not enough to get him anywhere interesting. 

The only sound is the low buzz of the little toy and the dry rasp of turning pages.

The urge to fidget is unbearable.

When Gladio turns the vibrator up one notch higher, what feels like an eternity later, Prompto can't quite help it – rocks his hips forward, just a bit, so that he can feel the sweet friction of the blanket dragging over the head of his cock.

He gets a quick slap on the ass for his trouble – a sharp sting that washes out to a low, pleasant burn.

"You can't listen," Gladio tells him off-handedly, "I'm gonna make it harder on you. Understand?"

Prompto's careful not to reply – not to bob his head the way impulse dictates. 

"Huh," says Gladio. "You do learn. You can say yes, sir."

"Yes, sir," says Prompto.

Gladio goes back to his book.

The turning of the pages seems endless. With nothing else to do, Prompto's mind starts to drift, caught up on the book that's dictating his fate. He wonders what it's about. He wonders if Gladio's read it before. He wonders if he's presenting a distraction, spread out mostly naked over the bed, or if Gladio's focus is entirely on the words on the page.

A page turns, and then another. Then thick fingers brush against his ass, near the vibrator. Prompto tenses, expecting the power level to crank up another notch, but instead the hand stays there – takes hold of the end of the toy and starts to move.

He's not really fucking Prompto with it: he's just kind of toying with it. He eases it out and then back in, maybe an inch. He twists it and rocks it. He _presses_ it, right up against Prompto's prostate; the breath catches in his throat, and it takes everything he has not to push back against the sudden spark of pleasure.

Then Gladio goes right back to rocking it, barely moving, scarcely enough to tease.

It's kind of wonderful. It's kind of terrible.

He has no idea how long it goes on for, but it drags out, and out, and _out_ , until he's anticipating every tiny twist and drag, trembling with the effort of holding still. Trapped beneath him, pressed against the rough fabric of the blanket, his cock is wet with precome. 

After what feels like a thousand years, Prompto hears the key in the lock – manages, with effort, to resist the impulse to turn his head and look. He hears the door swing open – can picture Noct and Ignis, standing framed in the doorway of the hotel room, eyes bright and mouths amused.

"Getting a bit of an early start today," says Ignis, "are we?"

"Eh," says Gladio. "I figured why not. I've been meaning to catch up on my reading."

Noct snorts a laugh. "Lucky you we got the hotel room for two days." There's a beat of silence; then he adds, decidedly interested: "How long's he got to hold out this time?"

Prompto can practically hear the smirk in Gladio's voice. "Till I'm done with the book."

A low whistle sounds in response. "Hang in there, buddy," says Noct.

Prompto feels a part of him twist in anticipation – wonders, suddenly, exactly how much Gladio has left to go. Too late, he realizes he could have kept track of the sound of turning pages. Has he finished ten? Twenty? A hundred?

Prompto can't say. He has no idea.

"Well," says Ignis. "We'll leave you to it. We've a few more errands to run."

There's a rustle from somewhere behind Prompto that sounds like fabric, and the faint sound of impact: if he had to guess, Ignis' reusable shopping bag, full of supplies from the market, being set down on the table by the door.

"Just don't finish without us," Noct puts in. "I wanna see him by the end."

"Don't worry," Gladio says. "I already told him, I ain't making this easy."

And that big hand, steady and sure, draws the vibrator out all the way to the tip before plunging it back in, so hard Prompto's toes curl.

Two sets of footsteps are heading back out the door, now, but Noct calls back, almost as an afterthought: "Hey, watch his feet. He moved that time."

Then the door clicks closed behind them.


End file.
